


Vexed, Perplexed, and Just Plain Pissed Off

by Beathen



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Dare, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beathen/pseuds/Beathen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a reward outweighs the frustration it takes to achieve it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vexed, Perplexed, and Just Plain Pissed Off

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal on September 10th, 2005. I own nothing - it all belongs to Showtime and Cowlip. Indeterminate timeline except for the fact that Brian has opened Kinnetik (so really it’s an extremely vague, early Season 4).  
> *A heartfelt and grateful thank you to my betas: besame_bj, shadownyc, and flamencanyc. You guys totally made this story a hundred times better than the original – thank you!!  
> *Written for the dare_challenge and originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/dare_challenge/8132.html)

**Sunday morning**

Right after he woke up, Brian lay in bed, Justin practically wrapped around his body. The kid was such an angel when he was in bed sleeping; it was so peaceful, and Brian could lie there forever, a feeling of contentment washing over him. It was amazing how well he slept when Justin spent the night, or enjoyed it when Justin cooked him dinner, or when he did any one of a number of little things that, on the surface, wouldn’t mean much to anyone else. But Brian enjoyed those moments and wanted them more often. How could he get Justin back without asking straight out? He really wanted to avoid Justin making a scene if he were to let Justin know exactly how much he missed him when he was gone.

As Brian stumbled out of bed around 11 a.m. he figured he would take a piss, make coffee and then manipulate Justin into moving back in with him. After flushing, Brian went to pick up his toothbrush from the holder, but then realized when his hand didn’t touch the familiar plastic in its usual spot that it was actually sitting on the back of the sink. Why did Justin always feel the need to move it? It was fucking annoying and was starting to give him a headache. When he opened up the medicine cabinet, the bottle of aspirin was missing from the second shelf. A quick glance at all the shelves revealed that it was not there. 

He made his way to the kitchen, but before he managed to even make it over to the coffee pot, Brian found himself sprawled on the floor on his hands and knees."

“FUCK!”

Brian twisted himself around on the floor to see what the hell had caused him to land on his knees. Which hurt, by the way. As he rubbed his knee caps to eliminate some of the sting, Brian spotted the cause of his problems. He picked up the messenger bag and tried to figure out why it was laying in the middle of the floor.

This was too much to take after such a late night at Babylon. His head was throbbing, his mouth felt like cotton, and now, thanks to a blond twink’s messenger bag, his knees were killing him. Walking back into the bedroom, Brian threw the bag on top of a sleeping Justin.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Justin grumbled into his pillow, pushing the bag off his stomach.

“You deserve it,” Brian replied.

“For what?”

“Making me trip over it.”

Justin tried to bury his head in his pillow, but Brian yanked it away. He was not going to let him sleep now that he was up. And hurting.

Justin rolled onto his back and blearily looked at Brian and groaned. “Let me take a piss before you start in on me. Go make your coffee.”

“No. We’re going to deal with this right now.”

Justin tried to get off the bed to avoid this argument, but Brian was too quick. Before Justin could roll onto his side, Brian had straddled him and pinned him to the bed.

There was a pause as their eyes locked. Neither one wanted to make the first move, but Justin finally broke down and asked, “How exactly am I supposed to be involved in making you trip over my bag?”

“You left it in the middle of the floor last night. This morning it was in my way.”

Justin laughed. “And you couldn’t walk around it?” He tried to wrench his hands from Brian’s grasp but he had no leverage and struggled in vain.

“Listen here, you little shit.” Brian pushed Justin’s wrists to the bed and leaned over into Justin’s face. “This is my loft and my rules. Your crap needs to be picked up and put away. This is not Daphne’s where you can throw your shit down wherever you want.”

“I’m here all the time anyway,” Justin replied.

“But you never pick up a damn thing! You move my shit around and then I can’t find it. Your art supplies litter the entire loft. Is it too much to put your stuff all in one place and to return my items to their rightful places?”

“You’re one to talk!” Justin said, lifting his head from the bed. “Whenever I come here all I see are empty bottles of Beam lining the counter or the bed completely messed up from you fucking a trick the night before.” The muscles in Justin’s neck were straining as he tried to get his face even closer to Brian’s. Justin’s voice dropped a few decibels. “Or how about when I have to pick up a used condom from my side of the bed when I know _I_ wasn’t the one to use it?” Justin lowered his head back to the bed and lay there, completely abandoning any hope of getting out of Brian’s grip.

“You presumptuous little twat. I don’t have to answer to you for how I act in _my own_ loft! You, on the other hand, need to start following some rules.”

“Will you shut the fuck up, Brian?” Justin rolled his eyes. “This all started with the bag, right? Okay. So I left it on the floor.” Brian sat back, still straddling Justin, but released his hands. Justin rubbed each of his wrists to dampen the pinprick sensations he was feeling. “If I recall correctly, however, _you_ were the one who pulled it off me so you could get my clothes off as quickly as possible. It’s not my fault you were incredibly horny and couldn’t be bothered to let me put my bag aside where you wouldn’t trip over it.”

This was a new turn of events. Brian didn’t think _he’d_ be the one being blamed.

Justin continued on with his tirade. “Instead of _asking_ me to move my shit, you expect that I should automatically _know_ what you want from me. But you know what’s worse than leaving my bag on the floor? It’s your pissy attitude about it. Every single event that happens in your life is met with sarcasm, rude remarks, and negativity. Did you even think through _why_ my bag was on the floor in the first place?” Brian opened his mouth to reply, but Justin didn’t give him the opportunity to speak. “No. You don’t think, not when it’s so much easier to blame me or condescend to everyone at every possible opportunity. If I dared you to go three days without saying anything negative at all, your head would probably explode.”

Justin crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. Sitting further back on his heels Brian was considering what Justin had said. He finally spoke, “Fine. I accept, but we need to negotiate the stakes.”

Justin looked up at Brian’s smirk. “Huh?”

“I. Accept.”

Now it was Justin’s turn to look perplexed. “Accept what?”

Brian pushed off from the counter and stood up straight. “Your dare, of course.”

“You do?” The wheels in Justin’s head were spinning. Could he possibly be hearing what he thought he was hearing?

“Sure. Three days without any negative comments. But let's make it more interesting and turn your dare into a bet--I want something if I win.” The smirk on Brian’s face started to worry Justin. That expression never led to anything good. “I want you to move in with me, permanently. No more of this running back and forth between here and Daphne’s.” Even though he was pissed as hell about the bag and the toothbrush and all the other little shit, he’d decided the boy had his uses and wanted him around more. He’d never go all lesbian and declare his undying love, or some shit like that to him, but for the most part, he enjoyed Justin’s company and wouldn’t mind it if he were around more often.

Looking at the man sitting on him, Justin scrunched up his forehead. “Huh? How is my moving in with you supposed to make things better? I’d think you would want me out of the way.”

Even though the dare had started out because of Brian’s attitude, he was going to turn the situation to his advantage. Sure, Justin was messy, but the advantages of having Justin move in with him outweighed any of the negative aspects of living with him. Brian leaned over him running a hand through the blond hair. “If you’re living here, I can _make_ you pick up your shit. Besides, think of the advantage: my cock available to you 24-7. It’s a win-win situation. You get my cock, I get your ass.” 

Justin was a bit apprehensive about this. Every time he’d moved in with Brian, everything had gone sour and he’d had to move out again. How could moving in with Brian make things _better_? Was this bet really worth it if Brian won? He thought about it for a minute, Brian thankfully quiet, and tried to think up a suitable consequence for Brian if he lost.

“If you lose, I want something then.”

Brian quirked an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“If you lose…” Justin paused before continuing, “I want to top you in the backroom of Babylon.” He exhaled quickly, his heart racing with anticipation of Brian’s answer. Justin was positive that Brian would reject this addition to the terms and the bet would be off; he’d really only said it because he was so uncertain about Brian possibly _winning_ and him moving back in. If there was anything to make Brian refuse, it was the humiliation of being topped in the backroom.

Staring at Justin, Brian was impressed with Justin’s balls, and not just the ones he was sitting on. It would be a huge blow to his reputation if he lost, but this was just incentive to _not_ lose. “I accept your terms. Are we agreed?”

His eyes getting wide at the prospect of actually going through with it, Justin tried to think of any disadvantages to the deal, besides being absolutely certain that Brian wouldn’t make it a _day_ without saying anything negative. Finally realizing that he was still waiting for an answer, Justin replied, “Three days, Brian. Just remember that. But you can’t tell anyone about the bet. That would be cheating.”

Brian leaned over once again so that his body was flush against Justin’s and captured his mouth in a feather-light kiss to seal the deal. A simple kiss that became heated very quickly. Brain held either side of Justin’s face, guiding him so they could devour each other as efficiently as possible. Brian then ran a finger lightly down Justin’s bare chest, thankful that neither of them slept with shirts on.

Before he lost all ability to talk, Brian added, “Plus, I want you available to me as often as possible. If I’m going to go that long without making everyone fear for their jobs or lives, I’m going to want a way to take out my frustration.”

Justin looked up at Brian’s face, his heart pounding, “Fucking makes it all better?”

Brian leaned in again and claimed Justin’s mouth. “Absolutely.”

Pulling back as much as he could to break the kiss, Justin said, “You know I have work and school. I’m not just going to cut class or the diner just to satisfy your dick.”

Brian kissed Justin again. From there, everything went very quickly. They quickly removed the few clothes they were wearing and began to grind against each other, their bodies responding to the stimulation of skin on skin. Brian pulled back slightly, ran his hands down Justin’s chest and abs, and lightly grazed the length of Justin’s dick.

Justin moaned into Brian’s mouth at the feeling and wriggled against him to get more friction to his cock. His already hard dick was ready and aching to come -- _now_! When Brian slipped a finger behind Justin’s balls and gently teased his hole with a delicate swipe, Justin’s lips broke away from Brian’s and he groaned. “Fuck me. Now.”

Justin wound his hands behind Brian’s head, while Brian maneuvered Justin’s legs up onto his shoulders. In a matter of moments, Brian was rolling on a condom and gently pushing into the man beneath him. After Justin rolled his hips a bit to indicate he was ready, Brian pulled back and pushed in again, forcefully, causing Justin to moan. 

Justin slid his legs down and crossed them behind Brian’s ass to help control the speed, opening his eyes to stare into Brian’s face. “Do it,” he demanded. Brian needed no more encouragement, and started a steady in-and-out rhythm; the pleasure created causing Justin’s flagging cock to come back to full-mast. The friction of their bodies grinding against each other started a flame so intense in both of them that it wasn’t long before Brian felt himself about to spiral out of control. He sped up his thrusts, pressing himself as close to Justin as he could so that the friction of their bodies would bring Justin off as well.

When Brian leaned down and whispered into Justin’s ear, “Come for me,” Justin allowed the coiled spring to snap. The contractions of Justin’s body around Brian’s massaged him over the edge to orgasm as well.

When they had recovered from the aftershocks of their orgasms, Brian pulled out, discarded the condom by the side of the bed, and rolled over to Justin’s side. He leaned over and planted a kiss onto Justin’s head as a satisfied smile came over the young man’s face. Brian leaned back into the pillows and lit a cigarette he had retrieved from his nightstand, allowing Justin time to bask in the afterglow wearing a cheesy grin and heaving satisfied sighs. 

When Brian had stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, he asked, “Shower?”

“God, yes.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening fucking on every available surface in the loft.

 

**Monday morning**

By the time 8 a.m. had rolled around, Brian was dressed in a clean, crisp suit. That was after having Justin blow him and then fucking him in the shower. It was always good to wake up with a morning fuck; it made the rest of the day seem easier to deal with. But now Brian was strolling into the diner alone for some breakfast and coffee, having let Justin go back to sleep once he’d left. He sat down in an empty booth and sat back against the wall, waiting for one of the waitresses to take his order.

Brian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. _Mornings should only be around for me to sleep through_ , he thought as he waited. After a few moments, he opened an eye to see what was taking so long.

“Hey Debbie! Can I get some breakfast?” Brian called. Debbie was running around the diner with her hands full of plates, seemingly unable to keep up with the crowd that had filled the place.

“Keep your pants on, asshole. I’ll be with you in a minute,” she replied over her shoulder, having turned away to grab a fresh order from the window.

Brian mumbled to himself that he could have gotten Justin to make him breakfast, and it would probably be tastier, too. Especially with dessert being Justin cream sauce.

After finally unloading the plates she was carrying to the adjacent table, Debbie stood in front of Brian, pulling her order pad out of her apron pocket. “Coffee and two egg whites scrambled, right?” she asked, before Brian had a chance to open his mouth.

It really was too early to be dealing with a cranky Debbie. He preferred to avoid getting a Novotny lecture before he’d even had his coffee. He nodded and waved his assent, letting her rush off to fill his order.

He was sipping his coffee when Debbie dropped a plate onto the table in front of him and walked away to refill some other patrons’ coffee cups. Brian lifted a piece of his egg onto his fork, but stopped with it halfway to his mouth. It was an egg but it wasn’t scrambled and had yolk running all over it.

“Debbie!” he called out again, pissed that the breakfast in front of him was not what he ordered. He glanced at his watch trying to figure out how long it was going to take for him to get a semi-decent breakfast. With everyone else’s plates passed out and a lull in the traffic, Debbie slipped into the other side of the booth and raised her eyebrows.

“You got something to say?” she asked, with an edge to her tone that made it clear she was not up for any bullshit this morning.

“You call this breakfast?” Brian countered. “Your cook can’t fill one fucking order correctly and you’re giving _me_ an attitude? This breakfast is for…” Brian stopped his little tirade as the memory of yesterday’s deal with Justin came to mind. _Three days without any negative comments._ That was the deal and the reward would be worth it.

“Fuck it,” Brian said as he threw a five dollar bill onto the table and stood up. “I’m going to work.”

With his coat in hand, Brian walked out of the diner. If possible, Debbie’s eyebrows rose higher on her head as she contemplated the fact that Brian Kinney had just refrained from swearing about the poor service and incorrect meal. 

 

**Monday morning at Kinnetik – 10 a.m.**

Brian stormed out of his office and past Cynthia’s desk.

“Get Ted in my office in 5 minutes,” he commanded her. As she scurried to retrieve Ted for his weekly berating, Brian continued down the hall to the art department. All the light chattering in the area ceased as people noticed the look on his face that said ‘Don’t fuck with me or you _will_ lose your job.’

He stopped in front of Alan’s desk, the head of the department and slammed a couple of boards onto his desk. “What the fuck is this?”

Alan quickly sifted through the boards before replying, “The ads for the Millant account.”

Brian brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed at the vein that was beginning to throb. “I _know_ the company’s name,” he said in a frustrated tone. He really wanted to rip this guy a new one. Instead of yelling, he sighed, “Just fix the colors and get it back to me in one hour. The client will be here at 11:30.”

As Brian walked out of the art department, a couple of heads popped up from their cubicles, amazed at the quiet tone and non-malicious words. People looked at each other, wondering what was wrong with their boss.

Back in the main office, Ted waited for Brian to walk in and yell at him. He was used to this weekly torture, but it never took away the dread of possibly ending up jobless again. The click of shoes in the hallway getting progressively louder and the slight swish of the door opening alerted Ted to Brian’s return. Ted glanced down at his watch. It seemed that whomever Brian had berated before him this morning got off easy. Normally he had to wait a good twenty minutes in Brian’s office before the man came back. Now, looking back up at Brian’s face, he wasn’t sure whether he should quit now and get the hell out or see what the boss had to say. Brian’s face was a visage of pain, disgust and torture — not the usual look of someone who had supposedly gotten his frustration out on some hapless minion.

“So, Brian…” Ted trailed off as Brian gracelessly flopped into his seat behind the desk, still rubbing his forehead.

Brian looked across the desk at the man fidgeting there. “I got a call from Suresweet this morning. Seems they’re still undecided about coming here. What _exactly_ did you say to them on Friday?”

Ted developed a nervous twitch under his left eye. “Well, you know I was only trying —”

“Stop.” Brian sat forward in his chair. “I had it all laid out for you: what to say, how to say it, and how to deliver the hook. So, cut the bullshit and tell me what happened.”

“Well, I did my best Brian, but you know I don’t work well under pressure. My hands get all sweaty and the words just don’t come out the way I plan.”

Brian dropped his head back onto his chair in surrender as Ted continued.

“I accidentally called the company Suresuck instead of Suresweet,” Ted finally managed to get out, half wondering if Brian was going to kill him or kill himself.

“Is that all?” Brian mumbled, still staring directly at the ceiling. There were cobwebs.

“Uh, yes?”

“It’s either ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Theodore.”

“Then, yes.”

“Fine. Get out and go play with some numbers or whatever the fuck you do while you’re here.”

Ted made a hasty retreat for the door, still curious as to the lack of degrading comments made about his face, hair, wardrobe, love life, or anything else that Brian usually took pleasure in pointing out.

Brian, on the other hand, was far from relieved. The day that had started out so promising was heading for shit. He could feel divots on his tongue, and perhaps even taste a little copper, from biting it too hard, but it seemed like the only way to keep his words in check.

What he really needed was some coffee. He had some boards to go over in half an hour and a presentation to give 30 minutes after that. He needed to be brilliant and dazzling and all those other words that were definitely how he did _not_ feel at the moment.

Pressing a button on the phone, he buzzed Cynthia. “Can you bring me a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, Brian,” came the reply in an affirmative, yet confused tone. Brian hardly asked for anything and here he was _asking_ for coffee instead of demanding it. Cynthia decided she was going to check Brian’s desk for drugs after he left for the day. That was the only possible explanation.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, Brian was sure his head would explode and he would fuck up his entire bet with Justin. He had reviewed the revised boards, which were finally up to his standards, and had wowed the people from Millant with his expertise and finesse. Still, in his struggle to check his language and temper with everyone around him he was being severely tested. Finally, at 4:30 p.m. he called it a day and stormed out of the office, ignoring Cynthia and Ted as he walked by, and drove back to the loft.

When he walked in the door he heard the unmistakable sounds of Justin puttering around in the kitchen, apparently fixing dinner. He ignored Justin’s “Hi Brian” and walked directly into the bedroom where, after changing into a black wifebeater and jeans, he flopped onto the bed.

Justin came in a moment later, crawled onto the bed and spooned against him from behind. “How was work?”

“Fucking fabulous.”

“Did you get the account?” Justin whispered, his breath tickling the back of Brian’s neck.

“Yes, I got the account,” came the terse reply.

“Then what the fuck is with the attitude?”

Brian rolled over to his other side, causing Justin to loosen his grasp on Brian’s waist, until they were lying face to face. “I…” How could he explain this to Justin without losing his temper? He had done so well during the day, if the vein in his temple was anything to go by, but he wanted Justin back in the loft for good and he damn well didn’t want to fuck it up now. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the inquisitive look Justin was giving him as he answered in a calm tone. “I didn’t tell anyone to fuck off today.”

With his eyes closed, Brian missed the small smile that passed over Justin’s lips. “Is that all?”

Brian wanted to throttle Justin right then because he knew the little shit was laughing at him, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the dare. He kept silent as Justin ran his fingers from his hair and down his chest. “I know what’ll make it all better,” he said as he started to undo Brian’s belt and zipper one-handed. Brian rolled onto his back to give him room to work. Within minutes, Brian was releasing all of his tension onto Justin’s expert tongue and sighing in relief. Justin crawled back up Brian’s body to share the flavor with his lover, their tongues massaging one another.

“Dinner’s ready,” Justin murmured, as a beep was heard from the kitchen. He sat back on his heels, then got up to retrieve the casserole from the oven. 

 

**Monday night**

Having cleaned up and eaten dinner in silence together, they then headed out to Woody’s for a drink. Justin wasn’t saying anything, but he knew Brian’s day-long self-restraint would overwhelm him if he got a chance to think about it. Drinking themselves silly seemed like a viable solution. Brian was grateful that Justin mentioned Woody’s after they had finished eating. As Justin had cleared off the table, Brian had called Mikey and made him agree to meet them there.

When they entered the bar a short while later, Brian and Justin each grabbed a drink and sat at the bar waiting for Michael to show up. 

Taking a sip of his beer, Justin turned to Brian. “Mom invited me over for lunch this weekend. She was telling me all about this new chicken recipe she found.”

“Hmm,” Brian replied, taking a healthy gulp of his Beam, hoping that this line of conversation would end if he didn’t contribute.

“Yeah, you stuff a bunch of different spices into the center and then slow-roast it to bring out the flavor.” Justin ignored Brian’s dismissal of the topic and kept rambling on, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him. “Then, you make a light wine sauce, but you don’t pour it over the chicken. You pour it onto a bed of steamed rice and then put the chicken on top. I think my mother —”

“Hey Brian!” Michael called out from the doorway.

“Thank God he’s here,” Brian mumbled, glad for the interruption of Justin’s little monologue. Justin just smirked at the back of Brian’s head having heard every word.

“It’s just me tonight. Ben had to finish up his lecture for tomorrow. Oh crap.” Michael looked down, grabbing his ringing cell phone out of his pocket. Answering it as he continued to walk toward Brian he wasn’t watching where he was going and plowed right into him, sending a very colorful drink splashing onto Brian’s new Prada shirt.

“Fucking hell!” Brian had tried to lean away to avoid getting the liquid on him, but that doubly fucked him since, in doing so, he knocked into Justin’s beer which spilled all over his back. “This was my new shirt! This is fucking unbelievable! Why can’t you ever…” Brian stopped himself abruptly, almost choking over the words he refused to say. He wanted to curse Mikey out for not watching where he was going, and lay into him and make him cower in fear. But with Justin right there reminding him of the reason for not doing so, he kept his vicious words to himself.

Michael had been trying to mop up the spill as best he could with cocktail napkins, but paused with a wad of the soaked paper in his hands. “Brian? Are you all right?”

Brian sighed. He couldn’t let anyone know about the bet and didn’t feel like divulging the details of his aborted comment. Instead, he simply replied, “No. I’m going home.” He stood up, the liquid from his shirt streaking down towards the waistband of his jeans. He carefully folded his jacket over his arm to avoid staining that as well. “You coming Justin?”

Justin placed his now empty bottle on the counter. “Yeah. See you later Michael.”

As Brian and Justin walked out of Woody’s, Michael gaped after them. Punching some numbers on the keypad, he hit send and brought the phone to his ear, dumbstruck by the unusual taciturn demeanor of the man he thought he knew. 

After a moment he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. “Ma, I think Brian is sick.” 

He had to pull the phone away from his head as Debbie’s voice screeched from the receiver, “WHAT?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the loft, Justin knew he needed to keep his distance from Brian. He didn’t want to frustrate him to the point of making him blow up and being the only other person there, receive the brunt of his rage. He’d done so well already, but the strain was obviously getting to him; Brian had walked straight from the door to his bed once again. He peeled off his clothes along the way and let them fall to the floor, climbing under the covers, and pulling a pillow over his head. Justin snorted quietly, aware that his own messiness was partly the cause for the whole bet and yet Brian had just left his clothes all over the floor.

Walking through the loft, Justin made sure to set the alarm and turn off the lights before heading to bed himself. As an afterthought, he turned off the ringer on the phone and turned the volume on the answering machine down. He had a feeling that Michael was going to call _someone_ about what happened tonight and Brian didn’t need to deal with the repercussions. After pulling off his own clothes, Justin climbed into bed, not sure whether or not he should touch Brian. He needn’t have worried, since just then Brian rolled toward him and gathered him into his arms, his breathing evening out as he eventually fell asleep. Justin drifted off minutes later, warm in Brian’s embrace. 

 

**Tuesday morning and afternoon**

Awareness came gradually to Brian the next morning – he was sated by a good night’s rest and sensed a warm wetness surrounding his cock. Instantly, Brian was fully aware of his surroundings and looked down to see that the duvet over his body was tented by Justin’s head bobbing up and down over his groin. A hand squeezed his dick and Brian lay back against the pillows, enjoying such a pleasurable wake-up call. All too soon his back arched off the bed and he groaned as he shot into Justin’s mouth. Justin crawled up his body, coming out from under the covers to kiss him. Pushing his tongue into Justin’s mouth, Brian tried to taste both their flavors.

Breaking the kiss, Justin pulled back. “Good morning.”

Brian’s response was to pull Justin’s mouth back to his own. Running his hands down Justin’s back, he held on to him as he rolled them both over until he was lying on top. Justin grunted as all of Brian’s weight came to rest on him. “I need to take a shower,” Brian noted.

“Yeah,” Justin grinned. “You reek of alcohol.”

Dropping his head onto Justin’s shoulder, Brian groaned. Justin ran his hands over Brian’s head, fingering the sweaty hair, content for the moment to let Brian lie there.

They eventually made it to the bathroom. They showered, and Brian fucked Justin into the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian’s morning at Kinnetik was not going as well as he’d hoped. In fact, it was probably worse than the day before. The art department had again fucked up the boards he wanted. They were useless; inevitably they could never manage to get the font right or the text was in the wrong place, or they had put it on white foam core instead of the usual black. Why the hell did they even stock the white? It wasn’t as if they ever used it.

After having taken a brief trip to Cynthia’s desk, Brian had holed himself up in his office, not trusting himself to say only neutral or, God forbid, positive comments to anyone. It was a good thing, though, because quite a few calls came through that he needed to take, so he was able to keep focused on the job at hand.

By one o’clock, Brian had managed to field eleven calls, send the Millant proof to a national magazine for publishing, and sign off on a couple of legal documents.

Shortly after he signed the last document, Cynthia buzzed his phone, “Brian, Justin’s here to see you.”

“Send him in. Hold my calls.” He disconnected the intercom as Justin walked in, shutting the door behind him. “Didn’t you have class this afternoon?”

Justin walked over to the couch and flopped back into the cushions, bringing a hand to his closed eyes. “I had a lab. It was pointless. I went to Daphne’s to work on some graphics, but…”

Brian noticed Justin flexing his right hand. “Yeah.” He got up from behind his desk and sat down on the couch, urging Justin to lay his head in his lap. “Here.” Brian gently pulled Justin’s right hand into his own and began to knead the muscles. 

Suddenly, the swishing of the door opening heralded Ted walking into the office.  
He walked up to the two men on the couch and dropped a stack of papers onto the glass table in front of them. “These need to be signed right now, Brian. We’re behind with some submissions and…” he trailed off as he looked at Brian’s face, his rage barely held in check from being disturbed. 

Brian continued to rub Justin’s hand and replied in a _very_ controlled voice, “I’ll take care of it _later_.”

“Yeah, okay. Um… well, let me know when they’re done. We really need…” Ted refrained from continuing his sentence when he noticed the clenched expression on his boss’s face. “I’ll just… go now.”

After Ted left the office, Brian sighed in relief. He’d figured that if everyone _stayed away_ from him, he could manage to make it through a few more days. Then, he would get Justin back into the loft permanently. He really didn’t want to fuck it up.

“That feels good,” Justin whispered from his lap, hoping to divert Brian’s attention.

Brian started to rub down Justin’s chest with his right hand until his fingers lightly grazed over Justin’s khaki-covered cock, eliciting a moan from the blond. Letting his fingers travel lower onto Justin’s thigh, he leaned down to kiss Justin on the forehead. Justin, in an effort to get the hand back onto his cock, whimpered and lifted his hips a little. Chuckling, Brian moved his hand back over Justin’s dick and pressed down, then slowly rubbed back and forth. Tingles of pleasure ran up Justin’s body; his lover’s talented hands were driving him mad. He whimpered again.

Releasing Justin's right hand, which he was still holding from the earlier massage, Brian used his now free hand to unzip Justin’s cargoes while the other continued to rub his dick. When the last tooth of the zipper was released, he removed his hand from where it had been stroking Justin’s cock through his pants, and swiftly slipped it inside his underwear to grab hold of Justin’s dick directly. He squeezed and pulled until Justin was mumbling “more” and “faster” and “Oh God,” and then leaned down to capture Justin’s mouth in a kiss as the blond climaxed with a groan. As Justin was coming down from his high, Brian shifted his hips, the hard-on in his lap becoming very uncomfortable. Justin felt the movement and slid himself down Brian's body so that his face was right in front of Brian’s Armani-covered dick. He quickly had it freed from its confines, his lips wrapped around the hard shaft, and soon Brian was coming as well.

“Do you have much more work to do this afternoon?” Justin asked when he could form a coherent sentence. 

Brian flopped his head back onto the couch, “Just these papers to sign for now.”

Justin sat up and crawled up next to Brian, placed his lips next to his ear and whispered, “When you get to the loft, I’ll be on your bed, naked and waiting for you; waiting for you to ram your thick cock up my hole so far that I’ll be bowlegged for two days.” Brian raised his head and looked at Justin, an eyebrow raising and a smirk coming to his lips.

“Then I’ll suck you off so slowly you’ll be begging me to go faster, but you’ll love every minute… every torturous second of it,” he continued, his voice dropping with each syllable, yet clearly enunciating each word, clipping the end consonants short.

Brian growled and tried to grab Justin to pull him in for a kiss, but Justin was too fast. He was off the couch and backing away, zipping up his pants.

“Where are you going?” Brian asked the retreating Justin.

“To the loft. See you there.” With a smile, Justin turned and walked out of the office.

Before the door could fully close, Ted slipped into the office, “Are those papers signed yet? We have a 2 p.m. deadline to get them faxed…”

“Theodore,” Brian interrupted, “unless you get out of my office in 5 seconds, I’ll…” ‘fire you’ went unsaid.

“Yes?” Ted asked, after waiting for Brian to finish his thought.

“Do you even know the meaning of ‘stay out’?” Brian asked, trying to divert his previous comment onto safer ground. “The door is there to keep you out.”

“I know, Brian,” Ted replied, “but this is important; not only for business, but for you.”

“Don’t try to convince me that’s it’s for my own good. I _know_ that. Now get the fuck out of here before your…” Brian snapped his mouth shut. He’d quickly gotten himself into dangerous territory once again. He tried glaring at Ted, hoping he would get the hint to leave.

As Ted scurried out of Brian’s office moments later, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. He hadn’t been threatened in two days, unlike the four times a day he was used to. Brian saw the pause, but didn’t care. He set to work on signing the papers; he had a certain blond waiting for him at the loft. 

 

 **Tuesday night**

After changing and eating an apple, Brian headed to Babylon. Sure, he’d been releasing some tension by letting Justin suck him off at lunch and then fucking him at the loft several times, but there was something about having anonymous sex that allowed him to relieve stress and forget about his day. Justin had expressed an interest in finishing up some project for school, so he’d stayed at the loft.

At the bar, Brian downed a glass of Beam, surveying the crowd for any potential fucks. It was early in the week though, so the pickings were pretty slim. He hoped there were a couple of people to choose from on the dance floor, but before he got a chance to look, a figure stepped into his line of sight. With the bright lights flashing in his eyes, he didn’t have much of a chance to pick out the features of the person, only that he was very stocky and a bit overweight. Fortunately Brian could be choosy when it came to his sex partners and declined with a simple, “not interested.” The guy moved down the bar and out of Brian’s field of vision.

Not seeing much in the way of potential tricks on the dance floor, Brian placed his glass on the bar and headed toward the backroom. Surely there would be someone back there that he could fuck.

On his way, a couple more people tried to catch Brian’s eye, but he ignored them. Brian really wasn’t into fucking tweaked out guys or those too drunk to even get it up. God… where was Justin when Brian needed him. Justin was usually available, except for tonight. Oh yeah, he was working on a project. And Brian _had_ been looking for an _anonymous_ fuck… Shit.

One thorough look around the rooms and hallways that made up the backroom told Brian he wasn’t going to get lucky there either. It was almost worse than the baths with overweight fags and sleazy looking men. One had even tried to make a pass at him with some stupid lines that made him sound like a hustler.

“You can fuck me. I have a tight ass,” the guy said.

Brian had given him the once over and replied, “No thanks,” his lip quirking down in disdain.

“Aw, c’mon. It’ll be fun,” he said, trying to press himself closer to Brian.

“No! You’re…” the word ‘pathetic’ died on his lips, but he recovered after a moment by continuing, “not my type,” and backed away, heading back to the main room.

At the bar once again, another guy came up next to Brian. “Wanna dance?” he asked.

Another glass of Beam was placed on the bar and Brian picked it up, taking a swallow, not answering the guy. 

“You know you want to.”

Brian looked him over. “No.”

“What? You got a thing against fucking twinks? That’s not what I heard,” the brunette replied.

“Shit! How many times do I have to say ‘no’? I’m. Not. Interested.”

As the man brushed past Brian, knocking some of the liquid out of Brian’s glass, he said, “Asshole!”

“Fuck!” Brian said, to no one in particular. He was definitely not going to find anyone here tonight and that was really pissing him off. _Fucking losers._

Downing the last of the alcohol, Brian strode over to the coat check. It was a waste of time coming to Babylon. Grabbing his jacket, he walked out into the chilly air and headed home.

Justin was not at the loft when Brian got there. He swore loudly. He’d really hoped that Justin would be there to give him a diversion, but it was not to be. He was relegated to showering and jacking off alone. The sheets were cold and clung to his wet skin as he climbed into bed. Trying to find a comfortable position, he rolled onto either side, and then his back, but it didn’t feel right without another warm body beside him. Eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep. 

 

**Wednesday morning**

Fortunately for Brian, he had left a message for Cynthia the night before that he was not coming in the following morning. He’d already handled the more pressing issues on the previous two days and the office could survive one day without him. Unfortunately, he was rudely awakened by pounding on the loft door. Rolling over to look at the clock, which read 8:07 a.m., he groaned. Why on earth was someone visiting him this early in the morning? Unless something happened to Gus… or Justin…

Brian stumbled out of bed, pulling on a pair of loose knit gray pants. As he walked to the door, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair, he resolved to talk to the building manager about having the front door code changed. This early morning shit had to go.

Rolling back the heavy door, Brian was greeted by the sight of his “family” on the other side. Not moving from his position in front of the door, Brian asked, “What are you doing here?” His voice was still gravelly from having just woken up and his tone left no question that he was in a bad mood.

Michael pushed his way in saying, “We just thought we should visit you since you haven’t answered any of your messages.” He was followed by Debbie, Vic, and Lindsay.

“Come on in,” Brian said, exasperated that he had to endure a family intervention once again. It really was too early for this. He walked back into his bedroom, grabbed a pack of cigarettes, walked back out to the living room, and plopped onto the couch. He waited for the assault to begin as he lit a smoke and inhaled the rich flavor.

He watched as Debbie and Vic placed casserole dishes on the counter that Brian hadn’t realized they had been holding, and wondered what the deal was. Food usually meant something serious.

Debbie was the first to sit down next to Brian; she placed a hand on his knee. “Brian, honey, is there something you want to tell us?” He looked at her trying to figure out what was going on. She continued, “I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”

Brian glanced over at her and the rest of them, most of whom had also taken seats on the couch. They were looking at him with pity, as if he were dying. “I don’t have anything to say,” he replied.

Vic leaned forward in his seat. “I know I’m just an old fag to you, but I’ve been where you are; thinking you’re on top of everything, but then your world comes crashing down. It’s not easy living with it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Brian asked, confused by Vic’s words.

Lindsay answered, but as usual it was a mess of lesbian sentiment. “I understand that you might not want to talk about it, but we, your family, are willing to help you, though you would never admit it.”

It seemed that everyone was beating around the bush and Brian was getting annoyed that no one had come out and said what was on their minds. 

Fortunately, he could count on Mikey to be tactlessly blunt. “We know you’re sick.”

There was a pause as Debbie, Vic, Mikey and Lindsay all waited for an explosion of expletives from Brian. He didn’t have words since he was so stunned by this turn of events. Why in hell did they think he was sick?

Stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray, Brian leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “I’m not sick.”

“Brian, you don’t have to deny the truth,” Debbie replied.

“And, who, exactly, told you this ‘truth’?” Brian asked, making quotation marks with his hands as he emphasized the last word, getting upset that they didn’t believe him.

“I did,” Michael said. “At Woody’s you didn’t even yell at anyone when your new shirt got ruined. Then I talked to Ted and he said you’d been acting strange the last couple of days at work. The only explanation is that something is really wrong.”

Brian grunted in reply. He didn’t want to give his “family” the reaction they were expecting, but he was silently fuming on the inside. How dare they pry into his life like this? They did it all the time. Hadn’t they figured out that if they’re meant to know something, Brian would have told them? He also couldn’t tell everyone the real reason why he was acting strangely; it would mean he’d lose the bet and he did _not_ want to bottom for Justin in the backroom of Babylon.

“Is it something else?” Debbie asked, snapping the gum in her mouth.

Michael added, “I’m your best friend Brian, and you can tell me anything.”

Brian leaned back against the couch and crossed his arms. “It’s nothing, okay?” he said, upset that he had to constantly defend his actions. 

“Brian…” Debbie started, but then stopped when she saw the rage flickering just beneath his calm exterior.

Finally, Brian lost control of his temper. “Would you all just get the fuck out of my loft? You have no business prying into my life!” Brian stood up and looked down at everyone seated on his couch. “Now, you can all go to —”

 

**Wednesday afternoon**

Brian had fallen asleep in his bed after the “intervention” was over, but woke up when he felt the bed dip, and opened his eyes to see Justin sitting on the edge.

“Hey,” Justin said, reaching over to smooth the hair back from Brian’s eyes.

Brian rolled onto his back, releasing the pillow he had been holding, his arms spread wide. Justin crawled onto the bed after kicking off his shoes and lay down against Brian’s side. Brian brought his arms around Justin, cradling him to his body as the younger man laid his head on Brian’s chest.

“Rough morning?”

Brian tightened his hold on Justin, “More like a rough three days.”

Justin huffed against Brian’s chest, “Did you do it? Did you actually keep all your negative comments to yourself?”

“Your confidence in me…” Brian paused, running his fingers gently through Justin’s hair, “is well placed.”

Justin tried to act annoyed that Brian had won the bet by sticking his lip out in a pout. Even though he’d fantasized about topping Brian at Babylon, he was pretty sure that Brian would be able to win. 

Brian released Justin and sat up. There on the floor of the bedroom was Justin’s travel bag, stuffed to the point of overflowing. He looked over to see Justin’s smirk. “That confident in my astounding abilities?”

“More like grateful. That bag is fucking heavy; I’m just glad I don’t have to carry it back down the stairs.”

Brian reached an arm toward Justin and wound his hand around his neck, pulling him in close for a kiss. When they broke apart, Brian glanced at the clock and saw that it was around 12:30 p.m.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Don’t you have work?” Justin replied.

“I took the morning off.”

Justin smiled and looked at the clock. “Well, we’ve got about half an hour until you need to get some work done. How about I help you pass the time?”

Brian smiled at Justin and pulled him in for another kiss, which lasted longer than the first. As they started to pull off each other’s clothes, Brian couldn’t help but be pleased that Justin had challenged him in the first place; Justin was here to stay and that couldn’t make him any happier. Sure they’d have to work on the finer details of sharing space with each other, but those were just trivialities. Justin was now where he belonged.

When Brian finally pushed inside a moaning Justin a few minutes later, he amended that thought; now he was truly happy because he was finally where he belonged too.

~~The End~~


End file.
